


Threads in a Tapestry

by Rochelle_Templer



Category: Diagnosis Murder
Genre: Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-07 20:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11631336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/Rochelle_Templer
Summary: Just as tapestries are made up of many threads, the bonds between people are made up of many moments.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a series of one-shots that will include missing scenes, episode tags and codas to various episodes that will mainly center around Mark and Steve although other characters will probably appear later on (which I'll make sure to add in the tags eventually). Basically, I'll post new chapters whenever I come up with them. 
> 
> This first chapter is an episode tag for "Santa Claude".

Steve Sloan was not happy.

He’d just spent two hours talking with his superiors about how Claude Campbell aka Andrew Basevich could possibly disappear in the middle of a hospital full of people. Granted, Steve didn’t have anywhere near as much explaining to do as Tolliver, the deputy sheriff who was supposedly guarding him, did. Still, Steve was chastised for not taking precautions of his own to ensure that Claude would be extradited according to procedure.

After parking his car, Steve ran a hand over his face while walking toward the beach house he shared with his father. Between his normal work hours, the time he had just spent at the restaurant, and then mostly listening to his bosses rattle on about protocol, it had been a long day. Too long. Especially when he had thought that he would be able to relax and enjoy some holiday cheer with his father.

Thoughts of his father made his face fall again. He’d been suspicious when Jesse had pressured him into taking over the dinner for the homeless when Jesse had been the one to arrange it in the first place. But at the time, Steve figured that Jesse had gotten distracted and had weaseled out of it so he could do something more fun. It was annoying, but Jesse had done him a lot of favors in the past, so he was willing to overlook this.

However, it was impossible to overlook the increasingly plausible theory that Jesse had deliberately schemed to get him away from the hospital so that Claude had a better chance to escape. The only thing that lessened his irritation with Jesse was the fact that he was certain that it was actually his father who had orchestrated this whole thing.

“Dad?” he yelled, slamming the door behind him. He paced around the house until he finally found his father sitting in his study, sipping a cup of coffee while glancing at a newspaper.

“Steve,” Mark smiled at him. “How did the dinner go? Would you like some coffee?”

“The dinner went fine,” Steve replied. “Maybe next year, Jesse can try actually showing up for the charity events he organizes.”

“Ah, sorry about that,” Mark said. “But Jesse really couldn’t get away. You know how busy the hospital can be at the drop of a hat.”

“I do know,” Steve said. “I also know a con job when I see one. Like the one you pulled to help Claude escape.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mark said with feigned ignorance.

“Dad….” Steve sighed. “You don’t really expect me to believe that Jesse was busy on some urgent case at the hospital and yet still had time to answer his cell phone do you?”

“I don’t see why not,” Mark said. “It’s not unusual for a serious emergency to be resolved in only a few minutes.”

“Yeah, sure, but all this is just too coincidental,” Steve said. “And you were the one who taught me to be suspicious of too many coincidences.”

“I suppose I did, didn’t I?” Mark smiled at him.

“Dad…”

“Steve, listen,” Mark said, taking off his glasses. “What if, hypothetically speaking of course, there had been a very good reason for someone to, oh say, misdirect a policeman from a not entirely legal incident?”

“Like what? Like helping a fugitive escape? Like making sure that said person could get away with helping a fugitive escape?”

“Well there is that,” Mark nodded. “But perhaps also because that same someone didn’t want to get the policeman in trouble. Because they were concerned about that policeman’s livelihood.”

“Or perhaps this person would have nothing to worry about because that policeman was going to enforce the law so they wouldn’t get in trouble,” Steve said.

“Yes, I suppose they might,” Mark said. “But then the policeman would be faced with a very difficult moral quandary. One that might prey on their mind long after the incident was over. And that other person….well, they might be willing to take a risk for what they know is right, but they might not feel comfortable with involving someone else who they care about.”

Steve sighed and shook his head. Mark sat his coffee cup down and stood up.

“Of course, this is all hypothetical,” he added. “Because if any of this was true…and I’m not saying that it is…it would put you in a difficult spot. A spot I’d never want to see you in.”

Steve let out another sigh and turned away from his father.

“You know, Dad, I knew how things might turn out for Claude. And I didn’t like sending him back either.”

“I never thought you did, Steve, but still….”

Steve held up a hand to stop him. “But I was still going to do it. You know why? Because, as flawed and messed up as the system is at times, I still believe in it. That’s why I’m still a cop, Dad. Because if I ever stopped believing in it, I couldn’t keep doing this. Not with what I see day after day.”

He paused and put his hands on his hips. “But being a cop also means that I sometimes have to do stuff I don’t like or even think is right. I can do everything I can to make sure some kind of justice can get through. But I also know that I won’t be able to do it every time. And I hate that. I hate it, but I still keep doing what I can whenever I get the chance.”

Steve let his hands fall to his sides. He wasn’t enjoying this conversation at all and wanted to just leave it where it was right then. But he also knew that there was one more vital point he needed to make.

“Dad, the reason why I’m able to work with you as a police consultant is because they know and I know that you’re going to do everything you can to help us uphold the law. But I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep doing that if I know that there’s a chance that you’re going to work against me when I’m not looking. Even if the reasons behind it are good ones. And if the department ever catches wind of any of this…I’m sure you know how that will turn out.”

“I know,” Mark said quietly. “Steve…you know that I’d never….”

“I know that you’d do everything you could to avoid getting me into trouble,” Steve interrupted. “And that you wouldn’t mean for anything bad to happen because you ignored police procedure. But the result would be the same and you know it.” He paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I think I’m going to turn in early tonight.”

“Steve, I...I know it was wrong, but Claude….”

“Dad, don’t say anything. I don’t want to know,” Steve said. “Hypothetically speaking, I understand why you did what you did and I agree that it was probably the just thing to do even though you did more than just bend the law a little. Let’s just leave it at that. Good night Dad.”

“Good night Steve.”

Steve nodded his head and took off toward his part of the beach house. The somber tone in Mark’s voice hadn’t escaped his notice, but right now, he couldn’t bring himself to act on it. Tomorrow, he’d make sure to take Mark out to breakfast and maybe suggest that the two of them pick out a holiday movie to watch together in the evening. That would be just the thing to lift his father’s spirits.

For tonight, though, Steve needed to be alone so he could resolve his own feelings about what Mark had done and remind himself of why he was going to try to make sure it didn’t happen again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is an episode tag for "Man Overboard".

If Mark Sloan had to choose something he disliked about being a doctor, he knew exactly what it would be: all the reminders of the fragility of life.

He let out a huge yawn and leaned back even more in the lounge chair on his terrace that overlooked the beach. He still felt sluggish from the heavy dose of Valium that Clare had given him in an attempt to kill him. Still, despite the residuals from that and the disruption it had had on his sleep cycles, Mark found that he was tired, but unable to fall asleep.

Mark kept thinking about Robert Brantigan. He was a little disappointed in himself for not considering the possibility of a medical issue causing Brantigan’s erratic behavior, but then he also accepted that it would be impossible to diagnose something like that without any knowledge of a person’s background. Still, Mark wished he had had at least an inkling of what was going on mainly so he could have been more sympathetic toward Brantigan while he was still alive.

_“Do you have children, Dr. Sloan?”_

_“And do they love you?”_

Mark frowned. The ravages on the mind that a brain tumor could cause were some of the worst that he had come across in his decades spent in the medical field. Other illnesses could incapacitate the body, but the ones that involved the brain could strip a person of everything that made them who they were. It was true that he didn’t really know Brantigan at all, but Mark suspected that he didn’t deserve what was happening to him.

Especially when it involved losing the bonds he had with his daughters.

Mark’s frown deepened. He couldn’t imagine being so insecure about whether or not his own children cared about him or not. At the time, he’d answered Brantigan’s query with a joke about Father’s Day ties. The truth was though, it was a question that never even occurred to him.

Although, maybe he could see why someone might ask him that question. Someone besides a person with a brain tumor altering their thought processes.

First there was Carol. Things never were easy with Carol. She had been independent for a long time and had always been eager to go her own way rather than stick close to her family. When things got tense between her and Steve, this only intensified her desire to keep her distance.

Still, Mark never stopped hoping that Carol knew that she would always be welcome in his life. It took eight years, but eventually, Carol did come back to him and to his delight, she returned much of the affection he had showered on her.

However, after the murder of her husband was cleared up, Carol promptly left to start a new life in Seattle. Mark had been disappointed that she left so soon, but he made sure to let her know that he respected her decisions and still loved her anyway. These days, he got a few cards, the occasional phone call and the very rare visit, but overall, she had gone back to living on the fringes of Mark’s life.

Then there was Steve. Steve was always close by physically as a result of their living, working and socializing together. However, Mark could not deny the fact that Steve could be just as distant as Carol was in his own way. His son kept his emotions hidden much of the time and tended to be stoic in many situations. Steve usually preferred actions over expressing his feelings directly.

Plus, Mark knew that Steve kept plenty of things to himself. Things related to his work and to his personal life. Not that he resented his son for that. Steve was entitled to his privacy. But Mark also didn’t kid himself into thinking he knew everything that was going on in his Steve’s life. On top of all that was Steve’s strong drive to take on the responsibility to watch over everyone which gave him an inclination to be stern and serious even during times when it might have been more appropriate for him to be more relaxed.

Steve and Carol. His children. Both of them stubborn, sometimes combative with each other and often finding their own ways to be distant.

  _“And do they love you?”_

Mark yawned again and sighed. He hadn’t mentioned it to Steve yet, but Carol had called the same day they had gotten back from the cruise. It was a brief conversation that mainly was a way to just catch up on the major events in each other’s lives. Mark was always grateful that Carol had become more mindful in making sure he heard from here even though he wished that he could spend more time with her.

It was the last bit before she said goodbye though, that had really stuck with him.

_“I sent you a card a couple of days ago with a newspaper clipping inside. I was thinking about you while I read it, so let me know what you think the next time we talk.”_

Mark smiled. It was such a little thing. Carol was just sending him a clipping she found interesting. But it reminded him of something he had always hoped for: that she was often thinking about him in her day-to-day life. That she could see something and wonder what he thought of it. For several years, he had thought that she was actively trying to keep him at the back of her mind.

These days though, he felt like a part of him was always with her. Much like it had never stopped being for him.

“Dad?”

Mark yawned again and turned his head to see Steve walking over to him. He was holding a plastic bag in one hand and a couple of video cassettes in the other.

“Oh hi,” Mark smiled as he got up. He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to get some of the sleep out of them. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

“’Fraid not, Dad,” Steve said. “I’ve got some paper work to finish up for Clare Brantigan’s arrest. I probably won’t be back until late.”

Mark’s face fell a little, but he tried to not let it show too much. He knew that his son had responsibilities that sometimes made it impossible to keep to the plans they made. It was a lifestyle he had experienced himself for many years.

“So I got you some of your favorites from that Chinese place down the road,” Steve continued. “I figure you can just warm up any leftovers later if you don’t get to it all right away. And I brought a movie to watch in case you get bored.”

Mark took the tapes from Steve and studied the title on the boxes. “ _The Longest Day_. You know, that is a good movie, but for some reason, I can’t always stay awake for the whole thing. And the way I feel right now….”

“Yeah, Jesse said you’d probably be pretty drowsy for at least another day,” Steve said. “That’s why I got this movie. I know you’ve seen it and wouldn’t mind seeing it again…but it’s no loss if you sleep through most of it either.”

“Thanks Steve,” Mark smiled at him. Steve smiled back and patted his arm.

“I’ve got to go,” Steve said. He sat the bag of food on a coffee table near the TV. “Oh and save me some of that Moo Shu Pork in case I can get away early.”

“Will do,” Mark nodded. “See you later.”

Steve waved at him as he walked back out the door. After he was gone, Mark took out one of the tapes and inserted it into the VCR. Then he sat down and searched through the bag until he found the fried rice.  He leaned back with his carton of food just as the movie started.

_“And do they love you?”_

Mark smiled again. However, it wasn’t because of the food he was eating or the movie he was enjoying. At least not directly.

It was because he remembered why it had been so easy to answer that question.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is an episode tag for "Jake's Women".

Steve knew that something was up the moment his father suggested that they stay home and watch the game.

It wasn’t the fact that they would be spending an evening in. After the week the both of them had had, staying in sounded more than a little appealing. Steve knew that his father had had a long week of reading papers from his med students along with his usual rounds. Meanwhile, he had had his own hands full with the Jake Caldwell case.

Steve leaned back against the couch and sighed. He still didn’t think much of Jake’s approach to relationships, but he didn’t think the man deserved to die over it either. Although after what happened to him with Maeve this week, Steve felt as if he had a special insight into how Jake’s two wives felt.

Maeve. Even after he had found about her being married, Steve had a hard time dismissing his attraction to her. Maeve had been the type of woman he kept searching for through countless blind dates and chance encounters. Unfortunately, she also ended up being just as out of reach as the rest of those women seemed to be.

Then again, maybe it had been just as well. Steve had meant what he said to Amanda and Jesse about not wanting to pass judgment on how other people lived and loved. In fact, a part of him was pretty sure that he wouldn’t have gotten as upset as he did if Maeve had told him during their first lunch together that she was married. He might have even considered at least keeping in contact with her. But the fact that she had lied to him had destroyed any chances of that. True, it was more of a lie of omission than a direct lie, but in this circumstance, it was all the same thing to Steve.

Steve sat up a little again and half paid attention to the reporters hyping the upcoming game. The only thing that was anywhere near as bad as the realization that he’d been duped was facing his friends and father. Thankfully, they’d mostly been discreet about it. Well, other than when Jesse offered his own “Break Up Blues Ribs” for lunch the next day. And that awkward moment when Amanda made it clear that he should have kept the receipt on that ankle bracelet.

“Ok, dinner’s here,” Mark announced, carrying in two large bags of takeout. Steve grabbed one of the bags and peered inside.

“Mexican?”

“Yeah, I thought it’d be nice to have something different from the usual ribs and burgers we’ve been having so much lately,” Mark said as he sat down. “Why? It’s ok, isn’t it?”

Steve stared down into a bag filled with nacho chips, salsa and trays of refried beans and rice. It reminded him of the restaurant he had met Maeve in for the last time. At the time, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to visit another Mexican restaurant for quite a while.

Still, there was no way Mark could have known about any of that and there was no reason why he needed to make his father feel bad for picking this for their dinner.

“No, that’s good,” he said, setting the bag down onto the coffee table. “As long as I don’t have to listen to any more restaurant mariachi bands any time soon.”

Mark made a face. “Ooo, I know. I think they’re supposed to provide atmosphere, but it always seems like those horns get played right next to my ears. I remember one time I was taking one of my old colleagues out to dinner at a place that had one of those bands. I thought for sure I was going to have a ruptured eardrum before we got our desserts.”

Mark drove his point home by waving his hands by his ears as if they were being hit by walls of sound. Steve smiled and chuckled under his breath. Suddenly, the food didn’t seem all that unappealing. He pulled out a bag of the chips and opened up a cup of salsa to dip them in.

“So…has anything happened yet?” Mark said, glancing at the TV.

“The game’s about to start now, Dad,” Steve said before popping the chip into his mouth. “They’re announcing the starting lineups.”

“Ah ok,” Mark nodded. “It’s been a while since I’ve watched a game.”

“No it hasn’t,” Steve countered. “What about that one I took you to last spring?”

“You mean the one that got rained out toward the end?” Mark smirked at him.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Steve smirked back. “I still say that they blew it by not waiting another five minutes.”

“Steve, there was a lake in the middle of the field.”

“Dad, it wasn’t a lake. At most, it was a large puddle.”

“A large puddle that just happened to flow all the way over to the dugout. I’m pretty sure I saw some baseballs float away.”

Steve chuckled again and shook his head. “So what you’re saying Dad, is that you weren’t really watching that game.”

“Well, there wasn’t much to watch once the field turned into a duck pond,” Mark smiled. “But no, I suppose I wasn’t really. If I remember right, it’d been a rough week at the hospital and my mind wasn’t up to paying attention to the game.”

“I guess I should have known better than to suggest it,” Steve said with a lopsided smirk.

“Oh no, I had a good time,” Mark insisted. “I had one of the best hot dogs I ever ate.”

“Yeah, one of the most expensive hot dogs you’ve ever eaten,” Steve scoffed.

“Well, maybe, but the company was definitely worth the price,” Mark smiled.

Steve smiled back. He ate a couple more chips as his father’s words sank in and he finally realized the purpose behind their watching a baseball game together.

“Dad.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m fine,” Steve said. “I will be fine. Maeve was…It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past, and I’m putting it behind me. Trust me, I’ll get over it.”

“Oh, I had no doubts that you would,” Mark replied. He leaned forward and put his hands onto his knees. “But I also saw no reason why you had to be alone and couldn’t have any fun along the way.”

Steve looked down at his lap and chuckled again. Even though he had so many examples to look back on through the years, he never stopped being amazed at how his father always seemed to know just what he needed. Whether it was a quiet, supportive presence or someone to talk to.

Or even just someone to share a meal and an evening in front of the TV with.

Steve smiled and tossed a bag of chips Mark’s way before handing him his own cup of salsa. They watched together quietly for a few more minutes before Steve set his food down.

“You forgot the beer,” he said, getting up from the couch.

“Wait, don’t you want to wait for a commercial?” Mark said, using a chip to point at the TV screen.

“Nah, this guy is going to strike out any second now,” Steve said as he left the room. “I don’t need to see that.”

He had just gotten the six pack out of the fridge when he heard the sound of cheers coming from the TV.

“Steve? Isn’t it called a grand slam when you get a home run with the bases loaded?”

Steve sighed and shook his head. It was just his luck to miss something like that. Then again, it was hard to remain annoyed for more than a few seconds.

Not when he was one of the luckiest people he knew right now.

Steve took the beers out to the front room, a smile on his face and his heart lighter than it had been for the last couple of days.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is an episode tag set a week after the events in "Confession".

“Ugh, why? Why did I ever let him talk me into this?”

Steve had just stepped off an elevator at Community General and heard a familiar voice nearby. He smiled as he turned to see Amanda hanging up her cell phone and rolling her eyes.

“What is it now?” he said, walking toward her. Amanda let out a sigh as she looked over at him.

“I just got off the phone with my sitter,” she said. “Apparently CJ ran off from her at one point in the park. And when she asked him why he did that, CJ told her that he was going to look for a friend for Tommy.”

“Tommy?” Steve echoed.

“That’s what he named his new pet rabbit,” Amanda replied. “You know, the one your father insisted I take home with me.”

“Wait, my father asked you to adopt a rabbit?” Steve asked, confused.

“You remember that case we all worked on from a week ago?” Amanda said. “The one with Father Dominic?”

“Yeah, how could I forget?” Steve chuckled. “I still can’t believe he tried to go undercover as a handyman. I saw him cause a street-wide power outage once when he tried to re-wire his coffeemaker. He’s the last person anyone should trust with a box of tools.”

“Yes, and while he was working undercover, he ended up with a rabbit that had been caught in a trap,” Amanda continued. “It seems this rabbit had snuck into the garden one too many times and had made a pest of itself.”

“And let me guess, rather than have something unfortunate happen to it, he asked you to give it a home,” Steve nodded.

“Oh of course,” Amanda said, throwing her hands up in the air. “He tried to tell me that the rabbit actually solved that case, but I don’t believe him. Jesse doesn’t believe him. No one in their right mind is going to believe him. And yet I still let him talk me into taking that rabbit home to my kids.”

“I get it,” Steve replied. “What, is the rabbit not working out?”

“Oh no, it’s working out,” Amanda said. “My kids love it, just like Mark said they would. No, the problem is that it’s working out too well, Steve.  Now, I’ve got CJ running around trying to find another rabbit to bring home. One rabbit I can handle. But two? That is not happening. Because it won’t be just two for long. I’ll wake up and find six and then twelve and then….”

Amanda waved her hand around before covering her face with it. “Why didn’t I just get another dog or a cat? Then I could have told Mark that there was no room, but no. No, I had to let him talk me into introducing my kids to rabbits.”

“That certainly sounds like Dad,” Steve chuckled. “It’s a good thing that I live with him or he’d probably would try to get me to start my own zoo.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Amanda laughed. “I bet you’ve had to put up with that your whole life.”

“Sure did,” Steve replied. “Back when I was a kid and before we moved into the house on the beach, we had this neighbor: Mrs. Thackerly. She was an old widow who had lived in her house for fifty years.”

“And I take it from your tone that she wasn’t one of those nice old ladies who invites the neighborhood boys over for cookies and milk,” Amanda said.

“Hardly,” Steve snorted. “More like the mean old lady who yells at everyone and throws rocks at the kids who get too close to her yard. Anyway, at one point, she fell off her porch and broke her ankle. She was still able to get around her house all right, but she couldn’t take care of her yard and garden. And her nephew, who was the only family she had who could help out, had just gone on a cruise for two weeks. So, my father thought it would be a good idea if we helped her out by doing it until her nephew came back from his vacation.”

“I’m sure you weren’t looking forward to that,” Amanda nodded.

“Not when it meant giving up two sessions of baseball practice,” Steve replied. “Fortunately, my dad worked it out with the coach so I wouldn’t be penalized for it, but that didn’t mean I wanted to spend all that time pulling weeds and pushing a lawnmower for someone who clearly didn’t like me. But to be fair, Dad did take care of the garden and the sweeping of the sidewalk and porch.”

“And was Mrs. Thackerly grateful for all your hard work?” Amanda asked.

“Not at all,” Steve sighed. “Oh sure, she stopped throwing rocks at me when I walked too close to her yard, but that was the only thing that changed.”

Amanda made a face. “Then it sounds like a waste of time, if you ask me.”

“I suppose in a way it was,” Steve shrugged. “Still, Dad said that it was the decent thing to do even if we didn’t even get a single ‘thank you’ for our troubles. At the time, I didn’t see the point, but looking back at it now, I do.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Amanda smiled at him fondly. “How does Mark keep convincing us to do stuff like that? Like clean up yards for cranky old ladies or take in stray rabbits?”

Steve shared a laugh with her and shook his head. It was a question he had asked himself at various points throughout the years. Sometimes, it took longer to figure out, but in the end, he always came back to the same explanation.  Mark was able to convince his son and his friends to do so many difficult, tedious, or even slightly hazardous things was because they all knew that he would do any of them himself if he could. In fact, he would do far more if needed to take care of them. Mark had a heart that was larger than anyone else any of them had ever met. It was a heart that could stretch out to care for every patient or stranger who needed his help and yet that still managed to keep his closest friends and family nearest to his generous, compassionate soul.

Steve looked over at Amanda and smiled as he guessed from the expression on her face that she had probably reached a similar conclusion.

“I should get going,” he said. “I promised Dad I’d pick him up after work so we could go get some dinner.”

“Yeah, and I need to pick up some rabbit food on the way home,” Amanda said. She let out a small, exasperated sigh. “Steve, what am I going to do if CJ manages to bring home another rabbit?”

“Try to convince my dad that you’ve got a great new addition to his magic act for the children’s ward,” Steve chuckled.

Amanda laughed again as he took off down the hall toward his father’s office. He knew he’d have his work cut out for him to convince Mark to leave on time to get something to eat, but it was a challenge he more than willing to do.

After all, he knew perfectly well his dad would be ready to do the same for him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an episode tag for Living on the Streets Can Be Murder. There are also references to A Blast from the Past, Murder on the Run, and Love is Murder.

Mark would never say it aloud, but there were times when he felt disconcerted by his own son.

It wasn’t feeling he had often. In fact, it was exceedingly rare. Nor was it one that he had for more than a brief moment when it did happen. Still, Mark always felt guilty for having it even if he understood that he wasn’t able to stop himself.

This time it was because he saw the look in Steve’s eyes while his son had a gun aimed at Cheryl Dante.

Not that Cheryl was an innocent person by any stretch. She had participated in murder and organ-harvesting which had taken the lives of who knows how many people. And at that particular moment, she had had a syringe filled with chemicals that could kill him only millimeters away from his hand. Thus, it wasn’t surprising that Steve had his gun trained on such a dangerous person. That wasn’t what unsettled Mark.

It was the fact that, at that moment, Mark was certain that it wasn’t Cheryl’s complicity in multiple murders that Steve was focused on. His son was responding to the threat Cheryl presented to Mark with a threat of his own.

Part of what made it so chilling was that there were no words exchanged between Cheryl and Steve. Mark knew that Cheryl was a cold, ruthless person as demonstrated by her willingness to excuse killing him because he got in her way. The fact that she seemed pleased that his death could also help her turn a profit drove this idea home. But even her cruel, cunning mind did not have the resolve to stand up to the stare Steve gave her as the trigger of his gun clicked. The look in his eyes did more than any words could to reveal his clear intent to shoot her without hesitation if she did not back down from her threat. While she might have not seen Steve as much of a threat before, it was quite apparent now that he had unnerved her enough with that stare to give in to his unspoken demand to give herself up.

Unlike Cheryl, Mark had seen this expression on Steve’s face before. It was similar to the expression Steve had when he confronted Eddie Gault while Gault held Amanda hostage. In that moment, Mark had been anxious that Steve would cross the line into vigilantism rather than take Gault alive. Mark saw it again when Mike Delany had held a gun to his head. Delany was unaware that Steve was nearby, waiting for the moment to step out of the shadows and arrest him. Once again, Mark felt unease as Delany appeared to be weighing his options while Steve continued to stand ready to shoot Delany if he believed it necessary.

Fortunately, in both cases, Steve had been able to take down his opponents with a strong right hook rather than a bullet. But Mark still did not doubt for one moment that Steve would have carried out his threat to shoot in any of these circumstances to protect the people his son cared about. Something that Mark knew especially applied to him.

Logically, Mark understood that part of the reason it unsettled him is because it seemed to go against his own personal and professional credo as a doctor. Doctors were supposed to help and heal, not harm. It was woven into his personality to take more of a compassionate, pacifist stance toward people, even toward the ones who were unkind to others.

Granted, he knew that Steve firmly believed in the principles of protecting and serving rather than leaning toward meting out his own brand of justice. In fact, there were times when Steve was far more compassionate than most would be toward people who had murdered others. A perfect example was the clear remorse Steve had felt over killing Lynn Conklin, a woman who had killed multiple cops and who had tried to kill him more than once.

Still, Mark also understood that that compassion was largely absent when said murderer was threatening him.

Ironically enough, part of what contributed to the unease that Mark felt was due to how it was tempered with the awareness that his son had such a hard line stance toward people who threatened him because Steve loved him dearly. While Steve was not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, Mark had experienced numerous demonstrations of the depth of love and loyalty his son had for him over the years. And this fierce protective streak Steve had in regards to him was another aspect of that love.

It was something that wasn’t always easy to reconcile in Mark’s mind although he could always empathize with it. If he was ever in Steve’s shoes and had to choose between possibly taking a life and watching someone kill his son, Mark had a feeling it would be difficult if not impossible to stick to his Hippocratic Oath as a doctor.

Mark let out a long sigh and leaned back into his chair. It had been several days since Cheryl had been arrested and the case closed. He had finally managed to get a day off and was waiting for Steve to finish up at work so they could go out to dinner and maybe catch a movie. His eyes glanced over at a picture of him and his son from a fishing trip they had taken a couple of years ago.

Mark smiled as he gazed at the photo of the two of them proudly holding up their best catches from the trip. The more he thought about it, the more he admired how Steve was able to confront the responsibilities and decisions he faced as a cop every day and still keep his humanity and compassion intact. Steve wasn’t naïve by any stretch, but he had not let himself become bitter or cynical by what he had experienced during his years as a cop.

Reflecting on that always helped Mark chase away the unease he felt during those moments when he was discomfited by his son’s actions or demeanor. He was completely confident that Steve would always do his best to find a more peaceful solution to the life or death conflicts he was faced with. Criminals who had to deal with Steve might be unsure of whether or not he would go through with his threats, but Mark was sure of the strength of his son’s character.

The sound of the front door opening and closing broke Mark’s reverie and he smiled again as he saw Steve walk into the front room.

“Bad news, Dad,” he said. “That Chinese place you said you wanted to go to tonight? It just got shut down by the health department.”

“Oh no, you’re kidding,” Mark said, his face falling. “And I heard so many good things about it from people at the hospital.”

“Well, let’s just say that it wouldn’t have been a good idea to order their Moo Goo Gai Pan,” Steve chuckled. “That is, unless you like it being a little more…exotic than usual.”

“Don’t tell me,” Mark said, holding up his hands. “I don’t want to know. Well, so much for that. Got any other ideas?”

“Actually, there is that new burger place that opened up a few blocks from the prescient,” Steve replied.

“Burgers again. Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“You’ll like this place, Dad. You can get stuff like goat’s cheese or salsa or broccoli on your burger if you want. They’ve got this ‘around the world with burgers’ menu that has loads of toppings to choose from. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’ll let you order a sandwich that’s just toppings.”

“Then I’m surprised you’re recommending it,” Mark smirked. “I didn’t think you were into being adventurous with your burgers.”

“I also happen to be friends with the owner,” Steve said. “And I know that he knows what I consider a good burger….and it has nothing to do with his toppings menu.”

Mark laughed. “All right, sounds like a winner to me. Let’s go.”

Steve grinned at him as the two of them walked out the door. At that moment, he felt fortunate that he got to see sides to his son’s personality that many people didn’t. The softer, thoughtful, playful sides that were such a sharp contrast to the stoic, strong, impassive front Steve had both on and sometimes off the job.

For in the end, even the aspects of Steve’s personality that disconcerted him were an essential part of who his son was as a person. And he wouldn’t change any of it for anything in the world.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a missing scene from toward the end of Murder By Remote.

Steve Sloan didn’t consider himself to be very sentimental. At least not when it came to personal possessions.

True, he did hold onto a few things. Various awards he had won or photographs of time spent with family and friends. Even clothes that he liked regardless of whether or not he’d ever wore them again. Still, he tended to keep the number of his possessions rather sparse. It was a stark contrast to his father who was definitely a pack rat, albeit a pack rat with an interesting and eclectic collection.

Unlike his father, Steve never really felt a need to hold onto junk just because of the memories he associated with it. Which is why it was such a surprise to him that he couldn’t let go of a piece of cardboard. A piece of cardboard he had held onto and had stared at several times while he sat in the waiting room at Community General.

Steve sighed and looked down at the cardboard flap in his hands. Specifically, he looked at the words scrawled in ink.

_‘To my dear son, Steve….I….’_

Steve closed his eyes. He tried to focus on the sentiment behind the words and on how they held the usual warmth his father always had for him. But no matter how much he tried to avoid the thought, the fact remained that these could have been the last words his father ever shared with him…and Mark had written them fully aware of that.

Steve’s fingers traced along the faint indentations of the writing. When this case had started, he had been intrigued by these new computer controlled houses. Sure, they were markedly different than the kinds of houses he was used to, but that was part of the allure for him. Steve wanted to try something new and was eager to experience what it was like to live in a home that was both innovative and that could be customized to his personal tastes.

More than that though, Steve was looking for a reason to move out of his father’s house.

Steve opened his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Originally, he had told Mark that the construction going on near their home was what had finally inspired him to find his own place, but the truth was far more insidious than that. Steve had felt like he was in a rut. He had had a decent, but unremarkable apartment and then he was sharing a house with his dad. As a result, he hadn’t really made a home for himself. Not only that, but he often felt as if other people were wondering why he kept living with Mark even though neither of them actually needed someone to look after him.

Not that he didn’t enjoy living with Mark. His part of the house was roomy yet private, the shared areas of the house were much nicer than what he could afford on his own salary, and he got to enjoy having a home that was only a few steps from a wide stretch of beach.  Even more important than that was the fact that he had a chance to enjoy his father’s company on a much more regular basis than he did when they lived separately.

Despite all of that, however, recently Steve had felt strange about continuing to live there. He was a grown man, a police lieutenant no less, who was living with his father. How could that be normal? He had begun to question if he was living there because he actually wanted to or because he had gotten comfortable with not having to bother with finding his own place. He’d even started to wonder if his father would prefer it if he finally moved out. Granted, Steve knew that Mark would never actually tell him that, but he also knew that Mark was always reluctant to put other people out even if that meant inconveniencing himself.

Steve glanced down at the cardboard again. Looking back on it now, Steve knew he should have realized that Mark didn’t want him to leave after all from the moment he had announced his intention to do so. Sure, Mark had tried to hide it with his talk about how a house was a good investment and how it would convenient for commuting, but Steve hadn’t missed the way his father’s face had fallen. Then there were all the less-than-subtle hints that Mark had given him about his uncertainty that the house that Steve was moving into was safe.

A frown appeared on Steve’s face. At the time, Steve had chalked up Mark’s suspicions to his father being a little reluctant to let him go. After what happened though, Steve was ready to kick himself for not noticing what Mark had: about the house, about Bruce Locatellli and about the connection Locatelli had to other people who had died in homes with these electronic systems. Mark’s instincts tended to be solid when it came to homicide, and this time, Steve’s decision to ignore those instincts didn’t just lead to a little bruised professional pride.

It had been a decision that almost cost his father his life.

Steve ground his jaw and stared at the cardboard again. He knew that he would be kicking himself for a long while for that mistake. But even more important than that though, Steve finally started to realize how misguided his plan to move out had been. Sure, the house that he had considered moving into was interesting and could be very comfortable to live in, but it didn’t really have much in the way of charm. Not to mention how badly things could go if anything else malfunctioned in the place.

It was also true that it might have been a bit strange to some people that he was still living with his father, but the more he thought about it, the more Steve wondered why what other people thought bothered him so much. None of his close friends, the people who mattered to him most, thought it was strange at all. Besides that, given how busy both of their lives were, Steve was well aware that there were plenty of times when he wouldn’t have seen anywhere near as much of his father as he did if they didn’t live together.

That last point, coupled with how close Mark had been to death, reminded Steve of an uncomfortable truth he’d been trying to avoid during this whole process: the fact that the time he could spend with his father was finite. Mark rarely acted like a man in his seventies, but that didn’t change the reality of his age. Nor did it erase the realization that his father would not be around forever. Steve was going to do everything he could to protect Mark and continue to hope that his father’s health remained as robust as it has always been, but he had to face up to the fact that, eventually, his time with Mark would run out.

Like it had almost done today.

Steve folded the cardboard and laid it onto his lap. Over the years, he had come to realize that the close, multi-layered relationship he had with his father was unique. He had seen too many of his friends and acquaintances struggle with fathers who were distant, demanding or even abusive. Even among those who did have healthy relationships with their fathers, those relationships usually did not extend into their professional lives as well as their social ones. Mark was one of his closest friends and a valued partner in his work as well as his father.

And at the moment, Steve could not fathom why he could have ever wanted to toss aside any of the precious time he had with his father by moving away.

“Hey Steve.”

Steve looked over to see Jesse bounding toward him. He got to his feet to meet him.

“How’s Dad?” he asked.

“He’s fine,” Jesse smiled at him. “We’re going to keep him in the hospital overnight just to make sure that there won’t be any complications from his hypoxia. But I’m sure we got to him before any damage could happen. He’ll just need to take it easy for a couple days.”

Steve sagged forward slightly, relieved at the news. It wasn’t long before his relief allowed his usual sense of humor to surface. “’Take it easy’? Have you paid any attention to my father these last few years?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jesse chuckled. “That’s why I’m telling you rather than telling Mark myself. I already know he won’t listen to me, but I figured you would know ways to get him to listen to you. You’re his son and I know he doesn’t like you to worry, so….”

“So you figured that I could use some good old fashioned emotional blackmail on him to get him to slow down,” Steve finished for him, a smirk on his lips.

“Aw come on Steve, blackmail is such an ugly word,” Jesse scoffed. “I mean, we are talking about your father’s wellbeing here. Hey, tell him I’ll bring him some ribs made with my new secret sauce if he promises to take some time off.”

“Wait, what secret sauce?” Steve asks. “Or do I want to know? You haven’t started using this in the restaurant, have you?”

“Well not yet,” Jesse said. “I was going to save the grand debut for next week.”

“Uh-huh, save it until I’ve had a chance to try it,” Steve warned him. “I remember what happened when you tried to introduce your ‘super ninja spice mix’.”

“Wow Steve, it’s like you have no faith in me at all,” Jesse said. He glanced down to the piece of cardboard in Steve’s hands. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Steve said, tucking it into his jacket. “When can I go see him?”

“Just wait another ten minutes, then you can go ahead,” Jesse said. “The nurses should have him settled by then.” Jesse glanced over at the clock. “Oh hey, I got to go. Remember to tell Mark what I said. He’s going to love my new sauce, you’ll see.”

Steve smirked. “Oh I’ll tell him all right.” He relaxed into a grin as he watched Jesse walk off.

Once he was gone, Steve pulled the cardboard back out and looked at it again. Jesse was one of his closest friends and had become like a brother to him. Still, Steve was reluctant to share something so private with him. Despite Mark’s warm, personable demeanor, Steve knew that his father often kept many of his feelings close to his chest. Something that Steve understood entirely. Thus, he was sure that Mark would prefer keeping this note between the two of them.

Steve stared at it for a few more moments before folding it and starting down the hallway. He wouldn’t tell Mark, but he had already decided that he would keep this scrap of cardboard among his other personal mementos as a reminder of his father’s affection.

And also as a reminder to stay focused on the things that really mattered to him…including staying close to the people he wanted to spend the time of his life with.


End file.
